


new start

by liionne



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist!Steve, M/M, Pre-Slash, Skinny!Steve, broke as fuck au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is an artist and Bucky is a lab technician in a high school, and despite their respective college degrees, they're both broke as fuck. And totally in love with each other, but whatever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	new start

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a post on tumblr that I have now lost the link for. Apologies for mistakes, comments and prompts are welcome!

Steve dumps his bag just inside the door, and sighs. His bag is just as beaten as up their apartment, the corerns fraying, material falling away from the seams, covered in dirt and paint splatters. The apartment looks kind of the same way. It's in the crappiest part of town, in the crappiest building, but hey- it's home.

He shucks off his coat and hangs it up by the door - Bucky actually made a coat rack because it was cheaper than buying one - and a shiver runs down his spine. It's fucking _freezing_. He wants to put his coat back on but instead he heads through the house to the bedroom, and pulls on a jumper. Bucky's already in there; he's wrapped up to the nines, scarf and hat and gloes on, but when he sees Steve he immediately takes them off and puts them onto him instead, wrapping him up.

"Heating's gone off." He explains as he wraps Steve up. "Landlord doesn't know when it's gonna be back on, so we're settling in."

Steve huffs a sigh. He can see his breath when it leaves his lips, so he doesn't put up argument. It's nearing the end of November; it's freaking freezing. Maybe Bucky's right about wrapping him up so much. So he stands still and lets him tie him up, tucking the scarf into his jumper with a smile.

"There. No one's getting pneumonia today." He grins, and Steve nods as he walks back into the living room, all wrapped up and ready to go.

Bucky makes them coffee, and shrugs back into his coat, because even _he's_ getting cold as the sun sets. They watch their old, crappy little TV that they got off Steve's grandma before she died, pressed shoulder to shoulder. The keep the lights off; saves on the electricty, at the end of the day.

Things have been easier than this. When they were living in student accommodation they were flush, never out of pocket, and then for the first year after college they moved in together and they did alright. They had a nice apartment, they were working, they were getting themselves sorted out. ANd then slowly their funds dwindled and dwindled until they had to move out and move into this hole in the wall, a dive if there ever was one, the type of place you see on those trash TV documentaries. The building is in the worst area of town and it's falling apart - the electricty goes off more ofte than not, and if it's not the electricity then it's the heating, and if it's not the heating then it's the water, and if it's not the water it's all three. It's freezing in the winter, and too hot in the summer, and the drains tend to stink a little around then too.

But it's home. It's the best home they've ever had since leaving Brooklyn.

When the electricty goes off near midnight, neither of them even bat an eyelid. The apartment is cold enough to mean that the food in the fridge and the freezer should be alright; they'll find out come morning.

The apartment only has one bedroom. It seemed like a problem at first, but it was cheaper, so they went for it. And then they learned that nights get really cold without central heating, and only having one room (and subsequently, one bed) meant they could share body heat. It's a lot warmer when they're sharing.

They settle in as they normally do; Steve shuffles into Bucky's arms, and Bucky's holds him. Anyone would think that Steve didn't give off that much heat, but he was like a tiny furnace; Bucky stole all of his heat, if anything. Steve shuffles closer and tucks his head nder Bucky's chin; he's still wearing his gloves and his jumper, but not the scarf. He doesn't want to choke.

"Night, Stevie," Bucky murmurs, and Steve huffs warm breath against his skin.

"Night, Buck." He murmurs in return.

Bucky pulls him closer, and holds him tight. He tries to tell himself that it's all platonic, that it's all about conserving heat-

But that's the biggest lie he's ever told.

~*~

So yeah, he's been crushing hard on Steve for a while now. Since, like, junior year of High School. Six years of his life has been devoted to holding a torch for Steve, even though girlfriends and boyfriends have been and gone. That's half of the reason they go, actually; they get along for a few months, and then they realise that Bucky is head over heels in love with Steve, and they go. Bucky knows it's for the best; it's not fair on anyone, having to live with him pining over his best friend.

He relishes the night, when they cuddle together and press against each other, or the days when they sit side by side on the couch. He likes watching Steve sketch, the way slim fingers grip the pencil and smudge little bits of the drawing, the way he sticks his tongue out just a tiny bit as he concentrates. He likes watching him make dinner, or watching the television, or something- anything. He just likes being with him.

But of course, he's never told Steve that.

When he wakes up in the morning, Steve is already gone, but of course he's tucked Bucky in. It's a Sunday, so Bucky doesn't have work, and Steve isn't in until the afternoon, just to finish off his project. Bucky's job as a lab technician at the local high school isn't minimum wage, but it's really not enough to live on. Not on his own. Steve's income is realtively small, but it keeps them both going, and at least theyboth like their jobs. They're not miserable. But even if it came down to it, it would be Bucky would gave up his job to go and do something else, something with better pay. He would never make Steve give up his job, not his art. Bucky loves Steve's art almost more than he does himself.

But when he wakes up in the morning he misses Steve, almost immediately, and he sits up to see him through the crack in the door, where Steve has left it ajar. He's standing looking at something, a letter. He grimaces as he brings it back over to Bucky, into the bedroom.

"The electricity's gone up." He explains, as he looks at it. He scratches his head. "I don't know what we're gonna do. I guess I'll have to work overtime-"

"No." Bucky says immediately. Steve already works his fingers to the bone. "No, we'll just- we'll save on something else."

"Like what?" Steve asks. "We're already scrimping on- well, everything." He gestures to the bed, and Steve sighs softly. Bucky knows, of course, what he's talking about.

He huffs too, then. "We have to do something, Steve. Something that doesn't involve you staying late. Or getting a second job." He knows Steve's thinking about that; can see it in his eyes. Eyes which Steve then narrows at him, because he hates it when Bucky figures out what he's thinking before he's said it out loud.

Bucky thinks the crease between his eyebrows is cute when he does that, too, so there's a bonus.

"I'll think of something, Stevie." He says. "I promise."

He sees Steve's fingers curl around the letter, and then, eventually, let go. He nods, and he gives Bucky a tight smile as he goes back to the living room/kitchen area. Bucky will have a serious think about it-

If push comes to shove, he can always take up stripping.

~*~

They sit in front of the TV again, just the two of them, no electricty but that supplying the television and the fridge. They sit curled up, and Steve thinks he could get used to this. He could so, so get used to this.

But of course, he can't. Bucky might swing that way - Steve knows because Bucky's dated before (Brock Rumlow was a jerk) - but he doesn't swing _Steve's_ way. Small, blonde and scrawny apparently isn't his style. Not really anyone's style.

But never mind. Steve's just glad he can have him like this, however platonic it may be.

It's actually a week after the rise of the electricity bill that it happens. Steve comes in from work covered in ink and god knows what else; he dumps his bag in the corner of the room, and declares, "I'm going in the shower."

"I'll come with you!" Bucky exclaims, pulling himself up off the couch and dragging the bobble out of his hair, letting it down loose. He has to tie it up for work, make sure he doesn't dip it into any acid or anything, and Steve loves it. He loves the little bun at the back of his neck, or the little ponytail. It's ridiculously cute.

But the proposition stops Steve dead in his tracks.

"You'll- what?"

"I'll come with you." Bucky says, slower this time, like he realises he's confused Steve to hell. "I was thinking, and- water. We should save on the water. So I'll come take a shower with you."

"Bucky, that's a bit-"

Steve is blushing, but BUcky seems dead serious. He nods, and he's already heading to the bathroom. "I know how it sounds, Stevie, but it's not anything. Alright? Ain't nothing we haven't seen before, and if you're that uncomfortable, you can wear a pair of trunks in there. Deal?"

Steve shifts his weight from foot to foot. He should say no. No deal. He's not going to go along with this absolute nonsense-

"I'm not gonna, but deal."

~*~

The water is hot on Steve's back, as Bucky clambers into the shower with him. Yeah, it's just as awkward as he thought it was going to be; his skin is pink, but not from the water. He's going for a full-body blush, down to his neck, over his chest. When Bucky catches it, he blushes a little himself.

Bucky seems to stare, but Steve doesn't actually notice; he's too busy staring right back. No, this is nothing new. They've seen each other with nothing on before; they've been friends since they were six years old, it was bound to happen at some time. But this is different. Steve doesn't know why, but the air feels heavier, and everything feels tense. He feels tense. There's someting between them, as Steve surveys Bucky's body, his broad shoulders and his muscled chest; lean muscle, perhaps the very best kind. Steve swallows thickly, and he thinks he sees Bucky do the same.

"C'mon then, punk," Bucky says. He sounds somewhat strangled. "We're wasting water."

Steve nods dumbly, and the two of them begin to wash. Steve rubs shower gel into his body, eyes firmly on Bucky's chest, just his chest, not wandering, as he washes. Bucky washes his hair, and Steve tries not to think about how nice that would feel, running his fingers through Bucky's hair.

He begins to wash his own hair, fingers combing through it, when he feels two hands take their place, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. He looks up to see Bucky, looking down at him with slightly hazy eyes. He doesn't say anything, just massages Steve'sscalp, and eventually, Steve gives in. With a sigh that could be a moan, he relaxes, and lets Bucky work at his hair.

It's courage alone that makes him squirt some shower gel onto his hand, and then press his palm to Bucky's chest, rubbing it into his skin. The low rumble Bucky emits is something of a purr, and it makes Steve feel warm all over. He knows he should stop, he should quit this and make Bucky get out, or get out himself, but then Bucky's hands slip from his hair to his shoulders, and then to his ribs, to his hips.

"You're so beautiful, Stevie."

It turns Steve to mush.

He rolls up onto his tip toes and kisses him, pressing his body against Bucky's. The kiss soon deepens; Steve tugs at Bucky's lower lip and swips his tongue across the seam until Bucky moans into his mouth. Hands find his hips, his abdomen, slender fingers trailing down every single line of muscle he can find. Bucky's hands trail over his sides, down the plains of his back, gripping his ass and squeezing.

They're not sure how it happens, but the water's gone cold and Steve is pressed up against the tiles. Their hands roam all over each other's bodies, gripping and tugging and exploring. Bucky sucks a mark into the crook of his neck, and Steve rakes fingernils down his back, but it's the first roll of their hips that makes Steve stop, and think.

No.

No, this is bad.

They're best friends. Steve doesn't want to ruin that.

"Bucky," He murmurs.

Bucky hasn't been out in so damn long, too poor for drinks and a pass into a club, too poor to go out on the town. He works so damn hard that he doesn't have time to meet anyone. Steve can only see this one way: Bucky's lonely.

"Bucky, stop." Steve murmurs. Bucky pants against his skin, lips grazing his pulse. Steve's voice is wobbly, jagged, but louder this time, " _Bucky_."

Bucky stops dead.

"Shit." He murmurs. And then again, louder. "Shit. Shit, Steve, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Oh my- I'll- Oh jesus, I- I-"

Bucky stumbles out o the shower, and Steve reaches for him, tries to call him back. He realises then that the water is _freezing_. He switches it off, and gets out of the shower.

When they fall asleep that night, Steve does it on his own. When he wakes in the morning, he finds Bucky asleep on the couch, and he tries not to think about that.

~*~

They do't really talk as much as they used to.

Two weeks since the shower incident, and they don't sit like they used to, all curled up. They sit on opposite ends of the couch, if only because Bucky puts himself there. They don't share the bed, and if they do, they sleep on opposite sides, again, because Bucky- he doesn't trust himself. He was sure that if he showered with Steve, he would be good. He would be able to handle it. But then he had seen Steve, so small and so delicate, absolutely freaking _gorgeous_ -

And he had totally lost his shit.

Now, he feels awful. Steve had seemed pretty into it, but then again, he had pushed Bucky away. He musn't have wanted it, not really. Right?

Well. That's what Bucky tells himself.

At the end of two weeks, he goes into work with his head hung. He feels like shit, not being able to talk to Steve if and when he wants to. He hates sitting so far away from him, sleeping in a separate room. He hates it.

Natasha must pick up on that.

"What's eating you, Barnes?"

Natasha's a chemistry teacher; they met on their course at college, but she went on and did a teaching degree too. And now she's here, teaching high school kids chemistry whilst Bucky is cleaning up their mess and making acid for them to spill everywhere.

He sits in the staff room, diveted of his lab coat and goggles whilst he's in there, and he sighs around his mug of coffee. "Nothing." He answers.

Natasha arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Bullshit."

Bucky snorts. "You speak to the kids with that mouth?"

"The older ones, sure." She nods, but Bucky's not surprised. She'sprobably telling the truth. "But seriously, James, what's wrong?"

Bucky thinks bout not telling her. He thinks about not saying anything, so that he won't get himself into any kind of shit, but it just tumbles out of him: " _Steve_."

Natasha's brows pull together. She knows about him and Steve, how Bucky is head over heels for the little fella (and how Steve totally feels the same about him, but whatever) and has been for the past ten years, or something like that. Something close to that. So she listens quietly as Bucky tells him about the shower, about Steve'sskin beneath his hands, his hair running between his fingers, all of it. He tells her everyting. He tells her how he's not said more than ten words to him since, scared he'll do something stupid. He sighs. He finishes his coffee. He stands.

"You're an idiot, Barnes." She says, head shaking. "The biggest idiot I've ever known."

"So that's your advice?" Bucky snorts, but all she does is purse her lips.

"No." She says. "My advice is to tell him how you feel."

Bucky considers that, but- but it seems so scary. Telling Steve that he's had a thing for him, something close to love now, since junior year. What if Steve doesn't feel the same way? What if he doesn't want anything to do with Bucky when he findsout, because it's weird and it's creepy and Bucky's a freak? What if-

"Oh, and Fury wanted to see you." She adds, breaking him out of his reverie. He nods, swallows thickly, and heads down to Fury's office.

~*~

"Mr. Barnes," Fury says when he goes in, and nods to the chair in front of the desk. "Have a seat."

Fury's the prinicpal of the school, and he's been way too good to Bucky, to be honest. But still, bucky has absolutely no idea why he's there. He doesn't get a chance to ask, though, because Fury launches right into it.

"Mr. Barnes, you've been here for two years now, and you've done some exceptional work." Fury says, and Bucky nods slowly. He feels dread fill the pit of his stomach. He's getting fired. "As I'm sure you know, Dr. Selvig is leaving in the fall. That'll leave a vacancy open for a new teacher, and we would like to offer you on the job training in order to fill that role. Think of it as a... promotion. An apprenticeship."

"An apprenticeship." Bucky echoes, and Fury nods.

"It'll take the rest of the year; the local college does offer the same short course, if you're interested-"

"Do I have to pay for this?" He asks, slipping forward onto the edge of his seat. "If you train me here?"

Fury gives a small, tiny smile. "The school would pay any fees."

Bucky nearly backflips. He stnds and grabs Bucky's hand, shaking it something fierce. "Thank you. Thank you so much, seriously, thank you-"

Fury nods, tells him they'll talk more in depth later, and ushers him out of his office.

Bucky spends the rest of the day grinning.

~*~

Two weeks of silence go out the window when Bucky comes home.

Steve is sat on the floor, covered by the duvet, sketching. Bucky slams the door shut and kicks off his shoes, almost vibrating with excitement. Steve looks up, and is about to look away again when he actually _sees_ Bucky. "Buck-?"

"They're making me a teacher!" he exclaims, and Steve blinks. "On the job training. Don't have to pay a thing. It's- it's a promotion. A promotion, Stevie! We're gonna have so much more money, you have no idea-"

Steve is grinning too, now. He stands careful not to slip on the duvet as he bounds over to Bucky. "That's amazing."

Bucky grabs a hold of him, pulls hi in towards him. "I'm sorry about the shower thing, Stevie, I'm sorry, okay?" He's not sure where the courage has come from, but now the words are tumbling free of his lips. "I- I really like you. I always have, since high school, but I get it- I get it if you don't like me back, you don't have to- I just want us to be friends. New job, new start, right? It's going to be great, Stevie, and I want-"

Steve's jaw has fell open, and Bucky stops. "...What?" he asks, and Steve licks his lips.

"You- you like me?" He asks. "Like- in _that_ way?"

Bucky takes a deep breath, and he nods.

The smile blossoms on Steve's face again.

"I like you too, dumbass."

"Like... _that_?"

Steve just nods, and that's all Bucky needs. He pulls him in close, kisses him til they're both breathless, until Steve has to reach for his inhaler. They kiss, and Bucky feels light headed as Steve drags him onto the sof, kisses him hard and holds him. They cradle each other, and it feels right.

Bucky was right, in a way. Right about one thing, at least.

New job. New start.

_New boyfriend._


End file.
